Sweetheart
by wannaberebel420
Summary: Harry's mum isn't so sure about his boyfriend, though he isn't sure he would listen if she told him to back away from that Riddle boy.
1. Sweetheart 1

_Harry's mum isn't so sure about his boyfriend, though he isn't sure he would listen if she told him to back away from that Riddle boy._

 **Sweetheart**

Tom Riddle was a tall, dark haired wizard with steel blue eyes* and flawless skin. He had broad shoulders and developing muscles, young still but old enough to showcase that he was going to look better than he does now even when he's in his forties. He wears black formal robes and, occasionally, suits that spice it up with a bit of navy or maroon. Whatever he wears, he looks as though he belongs in a painting or a teenage girl's wettest fantasy. He walks with innate grace, like a god. It's so easy to forget he's just a young wizard with just as uncertain of a future as anyone else his age, he's so certain and sure of himself and he radiates self-confidence people dream of.

It isn't embarrassing for Harry to admit he had a crush on Tom since he was just a first year, in the same House but separated by years. Tom was a fourth year and everyone adored him, Harry really wasn't anything special. Like everyone, Harry had fallen head over heels for Tom's _everything_ , from the just-slightly-so curls of his hair and cool eyes and smooth, deep voice. He still couldn't believe he had caught the older boy's attention, though it had been purely by mistake.

In Harry's first year, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor (Regulus Black) had begun his lesson plan as he always did. Instructions for beginner's dueling, basic defensive spells that even the most advanced witches and wizards use. Tom Riddle was assisting in all of the first year classes, a favor at Professor Black's part so he could manage the bigger classes with more ease. Merlin knew how chaotic it could get with a bunch of eleven-to-twelve year old's flinging spells at each other.

He was paired against Ron Weasley. At the time, they had been designing themselves as enemies because Harry was friends with Draco and Draco, as a Malfoy, hated all Weasley's and had made Ron his enemy- it was a very long equation, really, but the point was; as a friend to Ron's arch-nemesis, he, too, was an enemy. As opponents, even in a spar duel, it'd be easy to assume things could only end badly.

Harry had successfully disarmed Ron his first attempt at casting the spell, before Ron could finish his own spell. He caught Ron's wand and graciously gave it back. Afterwards, Tom came up to him and complimented him. And Harry wasn't eloquent in the slightest, but he had luckily caught Tom's interest. It was a faint, _dull_ sort of interest that'd nurture itself over time.

There was no timeline to their relationship, not one Harry could make anyway. Harry did his best to excel in his spell-work, studying avidly and practicing by himself in old, unused classrooms. He knew if he did amazingly, he'd continue to keep Tom's attention. Really, that was all he wanted, as any boy with a horrible crush would. He was just a very ambitious, very motivated, boy with a crush. Tom watched him, complimented him, and was eventually showing Harry a few tricks of his own.

By the end of his first year, Harry was sitting to Tom's right in the common room every night. He attracted plenty of envy, but he handled it the way he knew Tom would want him to. He stumbled often, embarrassed himself so much Harry was surprised no one just laughed at him. Harry had written hundreds of letters over the summer, all to Tom, but only sent about a dozen. Every letter that was sent back, Harry carefully read and re-read and re-re-read. He filled a journal with disgusting, lovesick poems and dreams. He was pretty sure his mum had found it, but she never told him anything. He was grateful for that.

Time passed. Harry continued to excel, continued to be by Tom's side. In Harry's second year, Tom showed him the Chamber of Secrets and gifted him a jade bracelet carved into an ouroboros. He treasured it, only took it off to clean it. He ordered books from a bookshop in Knockturn Alley and gave them to Tom, near weekly. He was thanked with his cheek being cupped, soft rubs across the top of his head, and a, "Thank you, Harry." At the end of the year, Hermione Granger died and a girl in Ravenclaw was blamed. She was expelled. Harry didn't utter a word about what he knew. On the train to King's Cross, Tom ushered everyone except for Harry out of the compartment, and gave Harry a kiss.

"That's a pretty bracelet." His mum said, when they were eating dinner that night. Harry barely heard her, he was still thinking about Tom and Tom's lips against his and, _wow_ , _it was like all the romance novels said_.

"Tom gave it to me." Harry said.

"Tom?" His dad raised a brow. Sirius started cackling until Remus showed his elbow into his side. "Who's Tom?" He asked.

"He's the one who dropped me off to you." Harry explained. Tom did, walked him from the train to his parents at the train station. He gently rubbed the back of Harry's neck and said goodbye, walking away without even a backward glance.

"He's older than you, isn't he?" His mum asked.

"He's a fifth year. Well, now he's a sixth year. He's turning seventeen in December." The words came out of Harry's mouth, too eager to spillover because he'd happily take every chance he could to talk about Tom, though Tom had told him not to talk _too_ much.

"Really?" His mum's fork pushed into her green bean with extra force. "Bit odd for someone his age to be giving twelve year old's gifts like that."

"Oh, Lily." His dad laughed. "Purebloods are a bit odd like that. Right, Padfoot?"

Sirius bobbed his head, mouth full and cheeks bloated with his potatoes. He tried to say "Yeah!", but it came out distorted and like, "Ne-wah."

She frowned.

Harry didn't think it was odd at all. He had worked very hard to get Tom's attention, he didn't think it had anything to do with his age.

He, again, wrote hundreds of letters but only sent out a dozen. Harry had made his parents wake up early on September First that year, desperate to see Tom's after what felt like _years_ and not a couple months. He had found magazines and all sorts of books over the summer, and catalogs he used to secretly buy _things_ that the magazines and books said Tom might like. He was very grateful for his family's wealth and his hefty weekly allowances.

Turned out, Tom didn't quite care about those things. He appreciated the effort and, for Harry's happiness, chose a few that he liked. Razors, lipstick, and lotion. Tom barely tolerated the fine hairs he grew on his arms and legs, and Harry's were beginning to grow in as wild and thick as the hair on his head. And, of course, lotion to keep his skin smooth. Anyone with decent self-care used lotion, apparently. The lipstick was just something Tom liked for him to wear, when they could be alone, with no offered explanation, except for kisses and a few hard nibbles. Harry would douse himself in oil and light himself on fire if Tom told him to, these things were nothing to do.

Harry learned a lot of things in his third year. Spells, including a few curses, how to make it look like his broom was malfunctioning during a game. There was also how to tuck his lips to cover his teeth when he swallowed Tom's cock, how to heal bite marks on his throat and how to make his own on Tom's. He learned that if he didn't heal any of the marks on his skin that could be easily hidden, it was a lot easier to lure Tom into an empty classroom or convince him to let Harry into his dorm room at night after kicking his dorm mates out.

Harry's summer after his third year was filled with letters and sneaking out as often as he could, no excuse to where he was going since he never strayed far from home during any of his previous summers or his entire _life_. But Tom was always there, seventeen and happily using his magic every chance he got. He gave Harry a ring that summer, one he said was a family heirloom he had retrieved. He told Harry a lot more, but Harry didn't care about the details because he knew if he thought about them too much he'd probably catch the feeling of telling something and that was betrayal and Harry never wanted even a passing thought of betraying Tom in his mind. Of course, he would never tell anyone what Tom told him, even if they pointed a glowing green wand at him.

Somehow, Harry's mum never noticed the ring. Nor did anyone else. And it never occurred to him to just tell his parents he was going to be with Tom.

In Harry's fourth year there was the Triwizard Tournament and Tom won it easily, but that didn't matter as much as their dance did at the Yule Ball and the jealous look he got from the Beauxbatons champion. At some point during that year, Harry had lost his virginity and discovered how amazing it felt to be filled up by Tom, probably enjoyed it far too often. He did remember, with ease, that on the last day of his fourth year he didn't heal any of the marks Tom had left on him. He wore them with pride and didn't really think of the consequences when Tom took him to his parents, saying goodbye with a kiss and an order to write him the moment Harry was home.

"Are you dating him?" His mum asked, as soon as Tom was out of eye view.

"Yeah." Harry admitted, fidgeting.

"Lot's of fun, huh?" His dad teased. "Ought to ask Sirius for a few healing charms, kiddo."

"Yeah." Harry repeated, flushing.

His fifth year was boring, lonely. Tom had graduated already and Harry was very much alone. He spent the days day dreaming and ordering other Slytherins around, who named him their unofficial leader with Tom gone. They couldn't please him, directly, anymore so they pleased him, in whatever ways they could. Harry was lonesome, though, in a way none of them could solve. He almost felt dirty thinking it, but he missed Tom's cock and Tom's hands and Tom's tongue and Tom's lips. He was haunted by wet dreams and constantly-growing desires. He felt impatient and on edge and got detention more than once, losing his temper and nastily hexing someone when they made a comment he decided he didn't like or if their existence just annoyed him.

He wrote hundreds of letters, and he sent every single one.

Harry was grateful for the summer. Tom was working in Knockturn Alley, proudly collecting an assortment of artifacts. He had taken the Triwizard Tournament winnings to invest in one thing and another, one of which being Fred and George Weasley's joke shop endeavor. They had officially opened a shop and were happily sharing the profits with Tom. How he knew they were opening a joke shop was beyond Harry.

He made up for lost time, though, spent hours with his legs spread or on his knees, or both.

This time, he told his mum and dad where he was going. His dad didn't care, but his mum did. She gave him curfews he never obeyed and grounded him, but he never stayed home for longer than a day.

Tom was invited, one night, to come over for dinner. He wore a tailored black robes made from some expensive material, not out of a desire to impress but simply something he wanted to wear. He liked to adjourn himself with little luxuries, though not one to flaunt what wealth he was beginning to grow for himself. He still gave Harry plenty of pretty gold jewelry and racy, lacy things, happy to weigh Harry down to transform him into a pretty trophy perfect for standing next to him. But, back to topic- _Tom came over for dinner_.

Harry cooed at him and kissed him and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles because Tom didn't need a wrinkle-free charm to remain absolutely perfect.

The dinner went well, but Harry's mum still grit her teeth and probably chipped her plate.

 _["Something about him I don't like." She whispered to her husband, when Tom was long-gone and Harry had locked himself into his room. He was doing that a lot lately, locking himself away and sometimes wouldn't respond to anyone knocking._

 _"You're just being overprotective." James dismissed. "Lily, come on, he makes Harry happy. Ought to be happy with that, yeah?"_

 _Lily bit her bottom lip, bruising. "He works at a shop in Knockturn Alley." She said._

 _"Out of intellectual curiosity, he said so." James kissed her cheek. "Stop worrying-"_

 _"-Yes, he said so! If he's doing bad things, why would he say so?" Lily said._

 _"Do you think he's a Dark wizard?" James asked. "Why? Harry trusts him, I think he_ loves _him. And I trust Harry's judgement and anyone who has earned his love."_

 _"I can try, but it's a mother's instinct." Lily sighed.]_

* * *

 ***I described Tom having steel blue eyes, but I know they've just been described as 'dark eyes' in canon, which is probably brown. However, since everyone compares him to Hitler, I thought I'd give him Hitler's eyes. Hitler had 'steel blue eyes', described by a woman who was talking about his charisma. When I watched the interview, she seemed enamored with him, still. I thought I should give Tom that! Though I don't think he's the wizarding Hitler. I mean, he wasn't even an artist.**

 **Also this is short and complete shit, I wrote it in an hour and it's late as fuck. Sorry about that?**

 _5/22/2017 EDIT if you want a continuation of this story, go vote on the poll in my profile._

 _5/26/2017 EDIT someone voted and got this story a second piece, which I'll update soon. If you want another continuation, go vote on the poll._


	2. Sweetheart 2

**Sweetheart**

"What do you wanna do, Mr. Hogwarts Graduate?" James asked, grinning wide and eyes shining with ever-present pride. He doesn't think he could ask for a better son, his baby boy who had grown up into a young wizard and well on his way on becoming a proper man. Next to him his lovely wife is finishing off breakfast, the first morning with Harry back home and likely one of the last they'll have with him. He was always an independent boy, James doubts his son will be around for long. Especially with the Riddle boy waiting for him, James would place money on Tom Riddle salivating at the prospect of having Harry with him in a private space with nearly zero possible interruptions.

[ _it makes him slightly sick, thinking about his baby boy doing things baby boys don't do. James wasn't the one who gave Harry the Talk, it had to be Lily. he still sees the scrawny little boy with too-wide eyes and a bright smile, can't imagine him doing the sinful things adults do._ ]

Harry laughed, pulling a spoon out of his mouth. "Tom says I'm supposed to be a trophy." He rolled his eyes. "But I can't just sit around and do nothing. I'm thinking about getting a job at where he used to work, that pawnshop in Knockturn. Just part-time, see, with that spot Tom got me training under the goblins at Gringotts I won't be able to work a whole lot." His boyfriend had managed to pull string after string, scoring him a position as an wizard-apprentince at Gringotts. He'd be working with them to learn how to make magical objects, how to break and make different wards and protective curses, and all the neat tricks for building a fortune.

"I don't know, sweetheart." Lily walked over the kitchen table, placing down two plates- one with a pile of scrambled eggs and bacon, another with a pile of pancakes. "It could be dangerous, working in Knockturn Alley." She said.

"Tom did fine." Harry pouted.

"Didn't he graduate with twenty N.E.W.T.'s?" James asked, raising his brow. He sipped his cup of coffee.

"How did he even manage that?" Lily wondered.

"He did a lot of self-study classes." Harry said. He pulled five pieces of bacon off of one of the plates, sticking his tongue out at his father.

James chuckled. He used his fork to scoot two pancakes onto his plate. "Are you going to be moving in with him?" He asked. "Since you're finally legal." [ _no he wasn't going to think of that-_ ]

Harry flushed and slowly nodded his head. "Tom's doing up some manor, wants me to move in with him when it's done." He said.

The skin over Lily's knuckles paled white as she gripped her cup of coffee. James' fork dug into his plate, just a bit, not enough to chip the porcelain. "My little boy's becoming a man." James said. Harry laughed.

 **Sweetheart**

A manor sat on the Welsh countryside, abandoned centuries ago when the owners had grown unable to properly manage it. Eventually it was sold to Gringotts and simply floated from owner to owner. Tom snatched it up in an auction for a cheap price, spend triple the amount for what he bought it for to transform it to what he wished to become his and Harry's home. The exterior was cleaned and the gardens were replanted with the stone wall fixed, the wards reinforced. The interior was furnished, updated, fresh paint and new wallpaper and floorboards added. The kitchens were stocked with three House Elves, who would also keep the manor clean. It sounds simple, but it had been a complex, expensive process to bring it to Tom's liking.

Tom's first night in it was spent alone. The second wasn't. His bed was filled with warmth and Harry, his lovely boy who was turning into a man before his very eyes. He thought it would be harder to see the growth and change, but it wasn't. Of course Harry's hair had grown even more out of control and had him use a potion to permanently rid himself of body hair. His boy was wearing cinches now, to squeeze in waist. It wasn't Tom's request, something Harry insisted he had to do. He didn't really care what Harry looked like, as long as he was by Tom's side.

He had plenty to do every day. They both did. Harry worked Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings and Sunday afternoons at _Borgin and Burke's_. He was at Gringotts every afternoon from Monday to Saturday. Tom's hours were erratic. He was building a fortune, managing recruitment and a growing list of followers, nurturing alliances with werewolves and centaurs and giants and even blasted trolls. Tom's ambition knew no bounds, he had _ideas_ and a way to perfect the magical world. Harry happily encouraged him. The nights, which were typically completely theirs, were spent with their bodies wrapped together, sloppily told stories with kisses thrown in just to be tender and show their _love_.

There were days Tom simply couldn't stand the Malfoy brothers, or the Lestrange's or the Rosier's or the Weasley Twins. Those were the days he came home hard-handed and decorated his love with bruises, bites, and deep wounds that stained their sheets red (and white) and painted Harry a colorful myriad of pain and pleasure. These days were often.

There were also days Tom went through all the troubles of leading with ease and came home, gentle. Harry enjoyed both types of days equally. Tom knew Harry loved the marks as much as Harry loved being held close and kissed while Tom came inside of him. When he could remember, he'd litter a bruise here and there, add a bite over that one Harry's carried for years now, never allowed to heal.

Harry knew full well what Tom was doing, but he pretended to be in denial. He liked to lick blood off of Tom's skin before he gathered his stained robes, throwing them out because even with magic there was that smell that couldn't be removed. The House Elves knew Harry liked tending to Tom the most at night, left him to it out of respect. Good thing, too, because Harry was territorial. He wanted to be the one who turned Tom away from Dark wizard and sadistic leader to a simple man with very simple needs; food, water, and sex, to name the essential three.

Tom sometimes remembered Harry's parents and chuckled. He doubted they would let him keep Harry if they knew what [ _who_ ] he was, what he was doing to their son.

 **Sweetheart**

*excerpt from the "Daily Prophet", June 6, 2000

 ** _Dark Lord on the Rise?  
_** _written by Lavender Weasley  
_

 _For the past three years, the Ministry of Magic has been dealing with reports of a possible Dark Lord. These reports were originally dismissed as rumors, made up by desperate Dark wizards attempting to gain a pardon for their crimes or a possible deal to lessen their sentence. However, a group of three Dark wizards have been arrested after killing seven muggles in London. According to sources within the Ministry, each of the Dark wizards had a strange mark on their inner left forearm that were identical to each other's. The names of these Dark wizards have not been released._

 _One of the arrested wizards stated they were obeying the orders of "their Lord." Though the Ministry remains skeptical, they have stated they will begin an investigation into the possibility of a rising Dark Lord. Sources claim the Ministry already has proof of the existence of a Dark Lord who goes by the name of Lord Voldemort, but do not wish to release the information in fear of alarming the public. These same sources claim they believe this rising Dark Lord has already risen and had control of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

* * *

 **My Great Poll of Writing (i named it and it's an amazing name hush hush) was only voted on once, earning this story a little continuation. It's only about 1400 words, but I felt obligated. I decided every Thursday I'll check the poll and write whatever got voted the most for, remove it from the poll and replace it with something new. That way I can please my readers and also force myself to write something at least once a week! I have been considered an original story, but I doubt it :D plus fanfiction is more my style. I'm thinking a good, real long Harry Potter fanfiction with plenty of detail and time spent.**

 **Also, I did only write this in like thirty minutes so...crappy quality? probably!**

 **AGAIN, if y'all want a continuation of this story or want to vote for whatever you want me to write the most, go to my profile and vote on the poll.**


	3. Sweetheart 3

_*this piece is placed December, 2001. This is three years after Tom and Harry moved in together and over a year since Lord Voldemort hit mainstream media._

 **Sweetheart**

Harry stood in front of a long, oval mirror, staring at himself and examining the robes he'd been dressed in. Tom had always loved spoiling him and it certainly hadn't faded over time. He thought it was a big much, but he felt drowned in Tom's adoration and couldn't complain. He let his ears get pierced so he could wear the earrings that matched the necklaces and bracelets, and, in Tom's own words, compliment his outfit. He was sure Tom had a keener eye for fashion than any writer for _Witch Weekly_ or _Fashion Magic!_.

There was some ball being held at Malfoy Manor, Tom was invited, and because Tom was going, Harry was going to go. He was wearing dark blue robes, tiny gold hoops no wider than the tips of his pinkies in his ears, tight gold bracelets wrapped around his wrists though they were covered by the robes' sleeves. Over the bracelets on his right wrist, his jade bracelet hung over them. A thick gold band had already been fastened around his neck. It felt odd to swallow and it reminded Harry of a collar. He considered himself lucky he was still youthful, wondered how he was going to pull this look off when he was a middle-aged man.

On his left hand, wrapped around his index finger, was the ring Tom had given him when he was thirteen. Harry never went anywhere without it on.

"Your hair is getting longer." Tom appeared, walking into their room. His skin had grown sickly pale the past few weeks, but was finally regaining its flush. Despite the unhealthy appearance that had suddenly appeared one day, he never acted sick or weak so Harry hadn't worried. He was happy his love was getting over whatever had plagued him, though. It was things like those he wished Tom told him more about, but Harry never wished to press him too much. And Tom seemed so stressed and wound up lately, Harry did his best to relax him though he seemed unresponsive to Harry's attempted cures.

"It is, isn't it?" Harry said, running his fingers through the wild stands. He realized with the added length, just slightly past his ears now, it was weighed down to uneven waves. He noticed the tips were curling in different directions, and rubbed the end of a lock. "Do you want me to cut it?"

"No." Tom stood next to him, leaning and pressing his lips in a soft kiss on Harry's cheek. "If you don't wish to cut it, it's perfectly fine. Though I should find something to help it become a bit more calm."

"I like it wild looking." Harry said.

Tom chuckled. Harry leaned closer to his chest to feel the soft rumble. "Alright." He said. "Are you ready?" He asked.

"Unless there's something else you want me to wear." Harry said.

"I could see if the Diagon jeweler had any gold hairnets, the elves could help me braid the strands into your hair. It _would_ match." Tom said, teasing.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go then! I wonder if Astoria's showing yet." He said. From last he heard, Draco's wife was already pregnant with their first born. The Malfoy's were quickly growing, with Abraxas already having a daughter and his wife reportedly pregnant a second time and Draco, with his marriage to Astoria finally settled, soon to have a child of his own.

[ _in a secret piece of his heart, Harry wanted his own._ ]

 **Sweetheart**

Malfoy Manor was decorated for its annual Winter Ball. Harry and Tom had been welcomed by Lady Narcissa when they Floo'ed into the entrance hall. She kissed Harry's cheeks and complimented his outfit, after telling Tom where her husband and sons were. She led Harry away, bringing him into the ballroom where it was bursting with at least a hundred elite witches and wizards from across the British Isles. Harry spotted the Minister of Magic avidly discussing something with the Lestrange's, waving a biscuit around while Rabastan nodded in agreement and Rodolphus looked extremely bored.

Narcissa brought Harry to where Astoria and Rosemary, Abraxas' wife, were talking. Rosemary's daughter, Rosario, was asleep in her arms. Astoria's stomach was bloated, sticking out just so that proved she was at least a few months pregnant.

"Harry!" Astoria smiled wide. "It's nice to see you."

"It has been awhile." Rosemary said. "We were worried you'd left us for the boys' table."

"I'm offended." Harry mock-gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "What _are_ you insinuating?"

Rosemary rolled her eyes while Astoria giggled. Narcissa smiled, picking a champagne glass off of a caterer's platter. "It's enjoyable to have you here with us. It makes us seem more important." She said.

They all laughed together.

"Oh! I don't know if you heard, but I'm pregnant again. Abraxas and I are hoping for a girl." Rosemary suddenly declared. "My mother says it's a curse for our bloodline to have a daughter as a first born, a punishment for her crime of marrying my father." She rolled her eyes. "I think she's just bitter she didn't name me after some constellation."

"We'll be naming our child Scorpius if it's a son." Astoria said. "I try not think of a girl's name, it might jinx it."

"I had Draco's name planned when I was fourteen." Narcissa admitted. "Lucius and I argued endlessly when we had Abraxas. I conceded, but we agreed to have another child. I don't know what I would've name him if he was born a daughter."

"Draconia." Harry said, laughing. _And it was a laugh, thank you very much, not a giggle_.

"Wait, no! Dracy." Rosemary said.

"I like Draconia better." Astoria said.

Harry remained with the three Malfoy wives for the majority of the ball, enjoying their company. He briefly interacted with Bellatrix Lestrange, he was very grateful his time with her had been cut short. He was sure he was going to choke her. He realized how many of those he knew at Hogwarts had begun their families. Daphne Greengrass had become Daphne Zabini over the summer, two months pregnant with triplets. Marcus Flint had a son and his wife had just given birth to a daughter, ordered to rest by the Healers so she couldn't attend the ball. Even Gregory Goyle had a child on the way and Vincent Crabbe's wife, Veronica, had happily told him she was pregnant herself.

[ _Tom believed the best way to fight muggle overpopulation and the increasing numbers of mudbloods and halfbloods was to have purebloods have larger families, a habit they often avoided due to old traditions. if Harry looked deeper into the many growing families and to others he had known from Hogwarts, he'd realize it was only those with some connection to tom who were quickly nurturing families._ ]

Towards the end, Tom had reappeared. He kissed Harry and ordered him to the floor so they could share a dance. Harry agreed and nearly fell asleep swaying to the noise of the gently-playing band, his head on Tom's chest listening to his love's heartbeat. He was never more grateful that he had remained shorter than Tom.

 **Sweetheart**

Christmas was celebrated only because of Harry's insistence. Tom wasn't a huge fan of holidays at all, forced into celebrations because Harry _wanted_. He was weak to many of Harry's wants though the both of them pretended he wasn't. The first year they lived together, they exchanged gifts and slept nearly the entire day in front of the fireplace in the drawing room. The second year, Harry decided to make brownies and accidentally lit the stove on fire. They had to celebrate the holiday a day late due to the damage Harry had laid on the kitchen. The House Elves had assured him it was fine, but Harry felt horribly guilty for weeks.

It was to be their third year, but Harry had made a deal with his parents to spend Christmas Day with them and he'd have New Years with Tom. It would be their first New Years alone and Harry was happily preparing to ensure they'd be having sex when the clock struck midnight.

"I could remain home." Tom said.

"Ha ha." Harry pinched Tom's nose. "I'm not going alone. Apparently, it's going to be one big thing with the Tonks, and Remus and Nymphadora's son. And Sirius. How can I face that storm without you?"

"Easily." Tom kissed him. When they parted, Harry rubbed his fingers down Tom's cheeks. Then he clenched them together and pulled, hard.

"No." Harry declared. "Now! No fancy clothes, either. I don't want it to make it seem we're trying to show anyone up. Mum said it's a non-gift exchanging year, but everyone's expected to bring a mystery present to add into one big pile. After dinner, we'll all take turns choosing from the pile. Something called White Elephant, I think she said. I don't know."

"I could pack a snake." Tom said.

"Hush." Harry ordered. "And I'll let you use the riding crop the night after."

Tom pretended to think. "I _suppose_ I could work with that." He leaned down for a kiss. Harry let him.

 **Sweetheart**

"Harry!" Lily swung open the door just as Harry reminded Tom to make friends and play nice. "Oh! It's wonderful to see you!" She drew her son into a tight hug, possibly bruising his ribs, before she kissed both of his cheeks and tugged him inside. Tom followed.

Inside the Potter's cottage, the living room had been filled with electric lights and shiny tinsel. A pine tree stood in the corner, a pile of gifts without any tags sitting underneath. After Harry and Tom placed their two presents among the pile, Lily led them into the dining room where the entire family had packed in.

James, Sirius, and Remus were decorating a miniature pine tree made of plastic. Nymphadora was drinking out of a goblet, watching them like she was watching a very amusing scene during a play. Her mother, Andromeda, was exactly the same.

"Ted's upstairs with Teddy." Lily said then laughed to herself. "Time for their late noon nap, I suppose."

Harry was briefly swarmed with hugs and tinsel was thrown on his head. Tom shook hands with Remus, and Sirius gave him a hug and eagerly asked him if his godson showed any of the famous bedroom prowess the Potter's were supposed to have. Before Tom could answer, Lily had slapped Sirius on the back of the head and ordered him to the kitchen before he embarrassed himself. Harry doesn't think it's quite possible for Sirius to feel embarrassment.

"So, do anything fun lately?" Nymphadora asked when Harry sat down at the table, Tom invited over by James to take Sirius' place in decorating the tiny plastic pine tree.

"I went to a Winter Ball." Harry said after a moment's thought. He looked at Andromeda. "How did you ever put up with Bellatrix when you were younger?" He asked.

The woman laughed. "She was a lot cuter when we were young girls." She said. "Forced to deal with her, were you?"

Harry nodded. "Only for a few minutes. I thought I was going to start a duel." He admitted.

"A duel at a fancy party? Ooh, I wish it happened and I wish I would be there to see it!" Nymphadora cackled. Her red and green pink hair twisted into flamingo pink for a brief second, before it suddenly looked an awful lot like the tree being decorated a few feet away from them.

* * *

 **The ending is definitely a little abrupt here, but I don't want to drag this addition out by meaningless filler details. I'm trying to drop hints of future pieces and add build-up, so any future additions have a good place to start out with. For example, if there's a new addition, it'll be New Years and few little extra things to drop. I'm thinking if I get to coerced into five pieces total for this, I'll just make it an ongoing story and write chapters as often as possible for it.**

 **Writing this got me in the mood for Christmas and it's fucking May. My existence, amiright? Also this piece was about 2000 words and when I realized that, and where I was at, I thought...Okay, maybe I should stop now before I drag this out into one ugly boring mess...Though writing Tom dealing with Harry's family would've been amazing.**

 **If you want another addition to Sweetheart, go to my profile and vote at the Great Poll of Writing! Also, like, if you want...review for my ego. Though you do make up for so little reviews with favorites and followers, my ego would LOVE a review.**

 **by the way I wrote this before Thursday because I decided to check the poll and three of y'all voted for another piece so i was like, okay i'll write something for these three delightful creatures.**


End file.
